


Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

by OrmondSacker



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Fluff, M/M, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 04:47:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrmondSacker/pseuds/OrmondSacker
Summary: Baze has been silent and restless lately and Chirrut has not been able to get out of him what it is that's on his mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sometime last week it-shitpost, paint-the-wall-with-bullets and Bjorncrantz had a discussion in the Ragecrew chat about Baze leaving Jedha and Chirrut, and how all of that might have gone down.  
> General consensus was that it was something he felt he had to do and that Chirrut might even have encouraged it. This is my take on how it might have happened.  
> The idea that Jedha might have leaned towards/joined with the CIS belongs to paint-the-wall-with-bullets too, while the Guardians’ neutrality is my own.
> 
> Betaed by JuniorWoofles. Any remaining mistakes are my own because I damn well can't stop fiddling.

There is peace here in the Kyber caves, a deep tranquillity exuded by the living crystals. One that Chirrut always feels when he meditates here. 

Always, except today. Today his mind is restless and his heart uneasy, unable to find its usual serenity. Perhaps it is because he should not be here at all, but rather with the man he loves. 

He has sensed the unease in Baze's mind and heart, knows that the dark turn the galaxy has taken over the past years disturbs him. He has tried to make him open up, speak about what is on his mind, but so far his husband has stubbornly refused. Baze makes a very good imitation of a clam when he wishes to. 

But perhaps his inability to find peace here is the Force's way of letting him know that he should be trying harder? 

With a sigh Chirrut reaches for his staff, intending to stand – even if he cannot get Baze to speak his mind, at least he can offer the comfort of his company – when he hears the tread of familiar footsteps. 

"Baze?" he calls out softly, not wishing to disturb any of the others that meditate in this sacred place. 

"I didn't mean to disturb you," the man says in the same low tone as he draws nearer and sits down next to Chirrut. 

"You are not, I can't seem to find peace today." There is no moment like the present so Chirrut immediately presses on. "And I sense that neither can you these days." 

There is no answer beyond a sigh, inaudible to any but Chirrut's sharp ears. 

Chirrut shifts around so he is facing his husband, reaches out and lets his hands find Baze's where they lies clasped in his lap. 

"Talk to me, my love." 

Baze swallows once and takes a deep breath before speaking. "I've been meaning to. I know you've tried to get me to." There is another sigh, heavy this time, and Baze turns his hands so they grip Chirrut's in turn. "I just haven't been able to find the right ones. I still can't." 

"Then say it with the wrong ones and we'll see if we can make sense of it together." 

There is a small amused snort and one large hand comes to rest on Chirrut's cheek, cupping his face. 

"You have always been wise," Baze says with warm earnest in his voice. 

Chirrut shakes his head, without dislodging Baze's hand. "No, merely too stubborn to quit." 

"In either case, I appreciate it." 

Baze falls silent and Chirrut quietly waits for him to speak again however long it might take him, still holding Baze's one hand in his.

"Chirrut I-" Baze finally starts, only to instantly falter. 

Chirrut says nothing, but rubs small circles on the back of Baze's hand with his thumb.

"I can't accept the Elder's policy of neutrality in this war." Baze's voice is heavy and laced with contrition as he speaks. "I understand why. With the CIS almost on our doorstep and Jedha's political leaders wanting to join them..." His voice flounders and fades. 

"And with our order's long historical ties to the Jedi and by extension the Republic, we are having to strike a fine balance," Chirrut picks up the thread, beginning to see where this might be heading. 

"Yes. As I said, I  _ understand _ ." Though Baze's voice is no less heavy, the contrition is exchange for a deep rooted vehemence. 

"But you don't agree. Why?" 

"It's, it's the complete lack of  _ action _ . People are  _ dying _ in this war and we all sit here doing  _ nothing _ ." 

Chirrut nods slowly, unsurprised, and was it not for the distress he feels pouring from Baze, hears his voice laced with it, he might have smiled. 

People often think he is the one to take action, the one to leap at any chance given, while Baze is the one who is steady and unmovable.  

There is some truth to that. Chirrut knows he is like the desert wind, ever shifting, one that can rise to a storm in a moment only to become a gentle breeze the next. Baze is akin to the mountain plateau on which the Holy City is build, solid and standing for aeons, seemingly without motion. 

But even tectonic plates shift, though they do it so slowly that it is barely perceptible to humans. But over time there great pressure builds up so they might move a great distance in a very short time. When they do that, the result is often cataclysmic. 

The pressure has been building in Baze for months, perhaps even years, long before the beginning of what is now called the Clone Wars and now the sheer need to  _ move _ is breaking him. It is so strong in this moment that Chirrut can sense his pain without even trying to reach him. 

"And now you feel you must act," Chirrut concludes softly, wishing he could think of a way to mitigate Baze's pain. 

"Yes," Baze whispers. 

"What will you do then?" 

The question hangs unanswered in the air between them, Baze's hand falling away from Chirrut's face, and as the silence drags on Chirrut knows the answer long before Baze speaks the word. 

"Leave. I need to do... something, anything, to help," he finally says, his voice low and heartsick. He clutches Chirrut's hand hard enough that Chirrut can feel his bones creak but he gives no outward sign of his discomfort, letting Baze cling to him. "I’m sorry." 

"For what?" Chirrut asks mildly. "For doing what you feel is right?" 

Baze's breath is sharp and raspy in Chirrut's ears. 

"For abandoning you," Baze whispers. 

Now it is Chirrut who reaches out and puts a hand on Baze's cheek, feeling the beard his husband has begun to grow. Its strands are still short and coarse against his palm, the feel of them unfamiliar though the contours of the face are as intimately know to his fingers as always. Leaning forward he rests his forehead against Baze's. 

"Listen to me, Baze Malbus. When I lost my sight you did not try to clip my wings but let me find my own path even when I stumbled and fell, though I know it pained you to watch it sometimes. I will do no less for you. Go, my light, if that is what you feel you must do. I will miss you, but I will be here still when you return." 

"Thank you." The relief that flows from Baze is almost physical in its intensity. 

"You are as you are. And I would never try to change you, my love, anymore than you would try to change me. One day, Baze Malbus, you will understand that it is  _ you _ that I love. Not some illusion I have conjured up.  _ You _ , as you are. All of you." 

"I think I am beginning to understand that," Baze say and Chirrut can hear the soft smile in his voice. 

He pulls Baze closer, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and Baze leans his head against Chirrut's shoulder. 

They sit in silence. Chirrut can hear soft footsteps of other Guardians as they pass through the cave, seeking solace and enlightenment among the kyber crystals. A few passes close enough to see him and Baze sit together, but no one disturbs them and Chirrut finally feels the peace he came down here seeking. And though he can still sense a disquiet in Baze's spirit, he too is calmer than he has been in a long time.  

Chirrut can only hope that in leaving he will finally find contentment again, but only time will tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes the title is a Shakespeare quote, you can yell at me on [tumblr](https://luminousfinn.tumblr.com) for it.


End file.
